And then he’s there.
I keep my eyes locked on the notebook in front of me, pretending I don’t feel the air shift when he moves.Pretending I don’t already know that if I look up, I’ll see that smirk.The one that melts logic and short-circuits my entire nervous system.
He doesn’t wait; he simply drops into the seat beside me with the confidence of someone who knows exactly what he’s doing.His knee bumps against mine, hard enough to jolt but gentle enough to feel like it’s deliberate.
“Looks like you’re stuck with me, Red.”
I grit my teeth.“Lucky me.”
“Could be worse,” he says, eyes burning into the side of my face.“Could’ve been Nicole.”
“Please.”I keep my tone flat.“You’d love that.”
He leans in, his breath brushing the curve of my cheek, and I swear the universe is intentionally doing this.
“Maybe,” he murmurs.“But she doesn’t look nearly as pretty when she’s pissed off.”
I shove the worksheet at him, the one someone left on my desk while I was busy spiraling through the seventh circle of emotional hell.“Shut up and read.”
He laughs, a sound that hums in your blood long after it stops.
And I hate that it hits me right in the stomach, heat curling slowly, striking a match I never asked for.
We sit in silence.
Or… I try to.
Reece treats silence the same way he treats rules: he ignores it completely.
He shifts next to me, all relaxed limbs and smug confidence.
“Don’t look so miserable, Red,” he says, voice full of that lazy charm he uses when he’s trying to get under someone’s skin.“We used to get along, remember?”
I don’t look at him because I do remember, and that’s the problem.
We used to talk, once.Back before the parties, all his hookups.Before his fuck count got high enough to earn him a reputation and a whole damn scoreboard.
Back when he was just Reece, he had no swagger or smirk.No trail of girls wondering why they were never enough.He was simply a boy with sea blue eyes and a crooked smile who knew how to make me laugh effortlessly.
There was a time—long ago—when we sat in a circle in someone’s basement, giggling over a bottle we were too young to drink.It spun around.Slowed down and landed on me.
He was my first kiss.
It was awkward.Too fast.Barely more than a breath.But it stayed with me anyway, the way firsts always do.
I glance up.“That was years ago.You hadn’t learned how to be an asshole yet.”
“Admit it, Red, you liked me back then.”His grin widens.
I snort.“I had a crush.I also had braces and thought cutting my own bangs was a smart idea.Let’s not trust past me.”
He leans back, arms loose, mouth full of trouble.That confidence rolls off him, warm and suffocating, filling every inch of space between us.
“You’re cute when you’re mean.”
I don’t flinch.Don’t let the flutter in my chest show.
“Yeah?”I say, reaching for the worksheet.“You’re tolerable when you shut the fuck up.Let’s just do the damn worksheet.”
